Autobiography of a Diya
Once upon a time, I was just a small, squishy lump of clay. Like a little seed waiting to grow into a big tree, I had the potential to become something wonderful. The potter, with his skilled and caring hands, began my journey. He spun his wheel, and I twirled and danced under his fingers.
As the wheel spun, I felt myself rising and stretching, like a little bird learning to spread its wings. The potter’s hands were gentle but firm, shaping me into a small bowl with a pointy nose – that was going to be my wick holder. It was like being tickled and hugged at the same time!
After my shape was just right, I was placed in the warm sunshine. It felt like lying on a beach, soaking up the sun’s rays. I watched the clouds float by and listened to the birds sing. Slowly, I changed from a soft, damp clay object to a hard, strong diya, ready for my next adventure.
The Painter’s Touch
My next journey was with the painter. She had brushes as fine as a fairy’s hair and colors as bright as rainbows. She dipped her brush and painted me in reds, yellows, and greens. It felt like a butterfly landing softly on me, leaving behind magical colors.
The painter drew beautiful patterns on me. Spirals, dots, and lines appeared, like stars twinkling in the night sky. Each stroke of her brush was like a whisper, telling me a secret, making me more beautiful.
Once painted, I sat on a shelf with other diyas, each one of us unique and pretty. We chatted about where we might go and whose home we would light up. It was like waiting for an invitation to a grand party, wondering what exciting things would happen.
Lighting Up Lives
Then, one day, a kind family chose me for their Diwali celebration. They placed me in their home, and I felt a sense of pride and excitement. It was like being picked for the lead role in a school play.
The family lit my wick, and suddenly, I, a diya, was not just a painted clay pot; I became a source of light. My flame danced and flickered, casting a warm, golden glow. It was like having a heart that beats with joy and love.
As I burned, I realized my purpose was to bring light and happiness. The family smiled and laughed around me, and I felt their love and warmth. It was like being part of a family hug, full of love and happiness.
In the end, I understood that like me – a diya, every one of us, no matter how small, can bring light and joy to the world. We all have a spark inside us, ready to shine bright and touch others’ lives. And that, dear friends, is the story of my life as a diya.
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